Her Old-Fashioned Doctor (2 page)

The image of him tangling a hand through her pretty brown locks and yanking her head back, perhaps so he could kiss those full pink lips of hers, caught him off guard. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I give you my word that I won’t hurt you. Open the door, darlin’,” he said gently.

After a deep breath and another cautious glance his way, she unlocked the door and opened it a crack. John opened it the entire way, slowly, not making any sudden movements. He reached a hand out to her.

“Can you get out of the car?”

“Yes, of course.” She accepted his hand and he helped her out, but she dropped his hand the moment she stood upright. The long, blue dress she wore cascaded down her legs and swayed in the light breeze, drawing his attention up and down her body. Everything about her screamed money, from her red Mercedes to her designer clothing and shoes. But damn the poor girl looked lost. And scared. He had the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be okay, even though he had no idea what had brought her from one of the richest parts of the nation to one of the poorest.

“Did you bump your head on the steering wheel?”

“No.”

“Does anything hurt?”

“No.”

He gave her another look up and down. Once he was satisfied she hadn’t gotten so much as a tiny bruise during the accident, he offered his hand again. “My name is John Holden.”

Color rose to her cheeks as she shook his hand, her skin soft but cool in his firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Mister—er, Doctor Holden. My name is Melissa Bennington.”

He held onto her hand long past the point of decorum, and the blush staining her cheeks deepened. Through it all, he noticed she wore no wedding ring. He chided himself for checking in the first place. She was too young to be married anyway, let alone far too young and inexperienced for a man like John, a man with particular tastes.

The sun slipped behind the mountain, and the street lamps John had helped install last summer flickered on and cast a dim glow over Melissa’s face.

He cleared his throat. “Please, call me John. I insist. May I call you Melissa?”

He swore he heard her breath catch in her throat, and after a long pause she nodded. “Yes, you can call me Melissa. I’d like that.”

Warmth filled him as he gazed down at her, the pretty but lost little girl from New York. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melissa. Now may I ask what you’re doing in these parts, so far from home?”

She gestured at the diner. “Well, I was sort of driving aimlessly, sightseeing I guess you could say, and then I asked my GPS to take me to the nearest restaurant, and this is where I ended up. Of course the GPS constantly losing signal didn’t help either. I kept getting redirected and would have probably had better luck turning the dumb thing off and following road signs. Again, I’m really sorry I hit you. Um, shouldn’t we inspect the damage?”

They moved to look at the damage. Fortunately there wasn’t a scratch to be seen on his truck, thanks to the large hitch affixed to the back, but unfortunately the front of her car sported a dent in the shape of that very hitch.

“Well, Melissa, it would appear I did all the damage here. How about I make it up to you by buying you dinner?”

She peered at him in shock. “Let me get this straight. I just rear ended you, and now you want to buy me dinner?”

“That’s right, darlin’. Amy Lou’s has the best roast beef sandwiches around, and the best chocolate cream pie you’ve ever tasted.”

The sound of crickets and locusts surrounded them as stars transpired above. Even though they were in town and the street lights now shimmered, they were so deep in the middle of nowhere that the stars weren’t chased away by a city glow. It was one of the reasons John loved it here. He wondered how often she saw the stars in all their glory where she came from. Or even the moon for that matter.

Amy stared at him, as if assessing whether or not he posed a threat. Finally, she spoke, her eyes lighting up the darkness as she smiled at him. “Well, it
has
been a while since I’ve gone to dinner with a complete stranger right after I rammed my car into his, so sure, why not?” Her grin widened and she stepped forward, so close he felt the heat of her breath. “But only under two conditions.”

“You name it, darlin’.”

“One, we’re splitting a piece of that chocolate cream pie you mentioned. And two, I’m buying
you
dinner.”

“You had me at chocolate cream pie.”

Her laughter was a balm to his soul, and the stress of his day faded in her presence. He’d never been so happy to have had a fender bender in his life. Although she’d obviously just been through a rough experience, one he was determined to learn more about, he saw a light within her that shined brightly through the sorrow that haunted her eyes.

Once they moved their cars into the parking lot of Amy Lou’s, he escorted her inside with a hand at her lower back, unable to resist touching her. She didn’t seem to mind, though she shivered when his fingers first brushed across her back. Her cheeks flushed too, and he realized it was the good kind of shiver. She liked his touch, or at least her body did.

He led her to his usual booth and Amy Lou scampered over, wiping her hands on her apron before stopping in front of their table and piercing them with a curious stare. They both ordered sweet tea and open faced roast beef sandwiches and French fries, all smothered in gravy of course. Melissa looked at him suspiciously when he insisted everyone around here ate their fries covered in gravy, and finally she relented and said she’d try it. Amy Lou hurried back to the kitchen, calling out their order to the cook, before dropping off their drinks. Once they were alone again, he leaned forward over the table and studied his dinner date.

“How old are you, Melissa?” It wasn’t the most polite question, but the need to know her age trumped good manners.

“I’ll be twenty-two next month.”

The air was knocked from his chest. Good Lord. She was indeed a young thing at twenty-one. He opened his mouth to ask her another question when she surprised him with a bold question of her own.

“And how old are you, John?”

He didn’t want to tell her. Even worse, he wanted to lie about his age and make it closer to hers. And yet, their age difference served to remind him of her probable lack of experience, her profound innocence, and his groin tightened with desire. “I’m thirty-six.”

She sat back in her seat, an impish smile crossing her face. “My my. That’s quite old.” She paused and looked at the ceiling, her lips moving as she mouthed
thirty-six
in a whisper. Then she met his eyes with a smirk that was almost bratty. “Don’t folks your age typically go out for the early bird special?”

John Holden wasn’t often stunned speechless, but he couldn’t think of a reply as he stared at the young lady who’d just made a joke and called him old all in one breath. She’d been afraid of him at first, right after the accident when she feared he’d be angry over the fender bender. But now that she’d begun to trust him, her sense of humor was coming out. He liked it. He liked her. She was rich and likely very spoiled, but she wasn’t so snobby that she couldn’t enjoy a conversation and have dinner with a stranger born and raised in the hills of West Virginia.

Finally, a retort came to his mind.

“Aren’t all good little girls your age supposed to be tucked into bed at this hour?”

Chapter Two

Melissa had never flirted with a man so openly before, and an older man at that. Well, thirty-six wasn’t really that old, but she’d enjoyed his shocked expression when she’d joked about his age. Now he was joking around about her age, and when he called her
little girl
, a heated spasm rocked her core, making her squirm in her seat. She looked at him, her lips slightly parted, as she tried to formulate a suitable response.

She twirled her hair around one finger. “Well then, I guess that means I’m a very bad little girl,” she said, right as he took a sip of tea.

His face reddened and he started coughing. He covered his mouth and turned as he got the outburst under control. Once he managed a few deep breaths, he regarded her accusingly. “You waited to say that right when I was taking a drink on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

The waitress appeared and placed two steaming plates on the table. Melissa’s mouth watered as she looked at the gravy covered sandwich and fries. She pressed her lips together, hoping John hadn’t witnessed her drooling. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that had been nothing more than a cup of coffee and a granola bar she’d grabbed at a convenience store.

“Can I get ya’ll anything else?”

“No thanks. We’re fine,” John said, winking at the older woman.

Melissa thought John had a smooth manner about him. His southern drawl and easy-going nature drew her in. When he smiled, a slight dimple on his left cheek appeared, and she found it charming. Yes, he was a stranger, but he was a nice stranger, the nicest person she’d met in a long time. There was no harm in being friendly and having a pleasant dinner with him before she continued south.

She forked a bit of the sandwich into her mouth and had to stifle a groan of pleasure.

“Are you in college, Melissa?”

“I just graduated from NYU.”

“Major?”

“Art History,” she answered, sadness panging in her chest. She’d wanted to go to an art institute, but her parents had been against it and insisted she attend NYU. “It’s not like you’re going to work anyway since you’ll be marrying Steven after graduation. But you’ll need a four year degree so no one thinks you’re a ninny,” her mother had said.

“Art History,” John repeated, looking thoughtful. “Are you planning to go into teaching? Or work in a museum?”

She kept her face neutral, or tried to at least, as she thought of a reply. Her handsome dinner date didn’t know it, but he was entering dangerous territory. She hadn’t even wanted to major in Art History, but she’d settled on it after her parents—and Steven—wore her down. The plan had always been for her to get a four year degree in something. The women in her family always did, just for the sake of getting a degree and looking smart, but upon graduation they became nothing more than ladies-who-lunch. She’d mentioned going back to school to Steven recently, and he hadn’t even listened to her. She loved creating things, mostly painting, and wanted to enroll in an art institute now that she was out from under her parents’ thumb, not get a Master’s Degree as he’d wrongly assumed.

“Hey, why so sad?” John asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

She flushed, upset she hadn’t succeeded in keeping the sadness from her face. She really didn’t want John’s pity. Poor little rich girl, he’d probably think. Everyone thought it the moment she complained about anything, especially the friends she’d made in college who didn’t come from money. “It’s nothing.” She forced a smile. “I haven’t found a job yet.”

“What kind of job are you looking for?” Interest lit in his gaze.

“Why do you ask so many questions?” she snapped.

He rose an eyebrow at her in a scolding manner, and his stern expression made her squirm and feel instantly repentant for her tone. “I-I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. My life is a little complicated right now. I’m sort of trying to figure out the next step.”

He leaned back, his face relaxing. A slight smile twisted his lips, and her attention was once again drawn to that damn gorgeous dimple on his left cheek. God, he was handsome. And rugged. Nothing like the men from Westchester. His worn jeans, boots, and button down blue shirt gave him a casual, country appearance that appealed to her greatly.

“I can tell you’ve been crying, darlin’. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.” She stared into his eyes, wondering if she could trust him, wondering if it mattered if she spilled her troubles at his feet, just to get them off her chest. Maybe then some of the worry darkening her mood would lift. “Promise you won’t judge me?”

“I promise.”

She sighed.
What the hell
. “I was engaged to be married in about six months. Two nights ago I caught my husband-to-be with three prostitutes. We’ve been engaged for years, since shortly after high school, and the plan was that we’d always get married and have a big fancy wedding after I finished college. We’d just bought a house together, and I caught him in our bedroom with all three of those girls. So I packed a suitcase, hit him in the balls, and left.”

“You kicked him in the balls?”

“He pissed me off, and he was standing in my way. Technically I didn’t kick him in the balls, I swung my suitcase into his crotch. Knocked him on the floor too,” she said with pride as she recalled the pain twisting Steven’s face before she walked off.

“Remind me to never piss you off.”

She laughed and took a sip of tea. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and even though she hadn’t revealed much to John, she still felt a thousand times better for talking about it. Her habit of bottling up her troubles often left her stomach in knots and her head pounding, but a simple conversation with him left her feeling lighter, even happier, if she could claim any happiness at all right now.

“Does your family know where you are?”

“I called my parents. I told them what happened and said I needed to get out of New York for a while. Steven has already been by their house several times looking for me. He’s harassing my friends too, but none of them know where I’m headed.”

“Where are you headed?”

She shrugged. “Florida, I guess. My parents have a house on Rosemary Beach. I thought I’d stay there for a while. If I’m going to avoid my problems, I might as well do it with sand between my toes.” A thrill jolted through her as he continued to maintain her gaze, not once blinking, his intense stare holding her captive. She forced in several deep, slow breaths and decided to redirect the conversation. “It’s your turn now. Tell me about you. Where do you practice medicine?”

“I own and operate a nonprofit called House Call Hope. Sometimes other doctors, including two of my cousins, come to volunteer, but most of the time it’s just me here in the hills. A lot of the people around here, especially those who live outside of town, don’t have any transportation. So I spend Mondays through Thursdays making house calls, and on Fridays I see patients in a small office I keep here in town.”